Work Text:
It had only been a few years past the burning of the Crown Prince’s temples when Hua Cheng first felt like he was starting to forget his highness’s face.
He often dreamt of him, the war against Yong An, his highness fighting with all the grace of a martial god, the land of the tender demons. All those times it felt like his face was clear in his mind, until one day it wasn’t.
Hua Cheng woke with a start and felt the chill of panic seize him. He had sworn he would never forget, even after seeing so many temples burned, all the heavenly idols smashed, he said he wouldn’t forget the crown prince, and now...
A thousand thoughts raced through his mind, layers of panic and shame that he might break his promise, that the crown prince he adored so dearly might fade from this world because his own mind failed him.
Without thinking, Hua Cheng grabbed a nearby stick and drew in the dirt. It was rough, and rather ugly, he was almost ashamed of himself for drawing such a poor portrait of his highness. He tried again, and this one was closer, it wasn’t quite the ethereal beauty that the more extravagant statues held, closer to the real thing, to the god he had once stood alongside, if only for a fleeting moment.
The ground was not a suitable place for a heavenly portrait, and although he had covered the ground in the prince’s face, it would not stand the test of time. He would have to get paper and ink the next time he was in town.
Time passed and Hua Cheng painted. He became a ghost, and still Hua Cheng painted. Mount Tonglu opened, and in the seconds between fighting, with nothing but ash and dust, Hua Cheng would draw the crown prince until he was the only face left in his memory.
A new demon king was born, and a new demon king painted. The Crimson Rain Sought Flower was known for many things, but none would ever know him as the one who set up tiny roadside shrines with nothing but a portrait of a forgotten prince and incense.
Even as a demon king, Hua Cheng could never find his highness, he had only a hope that the face he carved into his memory and the shrines he tucked away were enough to keep him from fading.
Until one day he did find him.
The Supreme demon king lead the thrice ascended Flower Crowned Martial God from the marriage sedan, and even as he dispersed into a thousand silver butterflies, a peak of the face under that red veil was enough to make Hua Cheng smile.